


Wearing Your Emotions On Your (Tattoo) Sleeve

by fourthingsandawizard



Series: Galaxies and Greenhouses: Oneshots [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Galaxies and Greenhouses, Gen, Hogwarts AU, Modern wizards au, Muggleborn Dan, Oneshot, Plantboy!Phil, Pureblood Phil, Spaceboy!Dan, Wizard tattoos, platonic, post—hogwarts, punk!phil, youtuber!Phil, youtuber!dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 07:16:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10406772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourthingsandawizard/pseuds/fourthingsandawizard
Summary: After Dan and Phil fail to upload a video on time, they make the rather risky decision to let their viewers pick their forfeit. Really, were they expecting them to pick something easy?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot takes place in the Phan Hogwarts AU established in my fic [Galaxies and Greenhouses](http://http://archiveofourown.org/works/7520281/chapters/17093110), which should _probably_ be read before reading this fic. (For context, this fic would take place about a week or so before the epilogue in the original chaptered fic!)
> 
> Also, yes, the tattoo that Phil gets in this fic _is_ the one he got in the Pastel Edits video. Fight me.

“Phil, I’ve changed my mind, I don’t think I want to do this anymore.”

Dan attempted to dig in his heels, but the older man’s grip on his wrist was too strong as he guided them through the crowded path of Diagon Alley, full of families shopping on a cloudless Saturday afternoon.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Phil called over his shoulder as he kept up his unrelenting pace, nearly running into a signpost as he looked back until Dan tugged on his arm and steered him away from danger at the last second. “We both agreed to do a forfeit if we didn’t get the new PINOF video posted on time, so you’re not backing out now.”

“But just because we agreed to a forfeit doesn’t mean we had to let our viewers choose what we have to do!” Dan whined as they narrowly avoided a wizard levitating a towering stack of parcels in front of him. “Or did you forget that tattoos are _permanent?_ ”

“Oh, come on, Dan!” Phil, ever the optimist, exclaimed. “The viewers _loved_ it when we put those fake tattoos on you for the punk edits video!”

“Yes, keyword there being _fake_ ,” Dan groaned. “If this one goes wrong, we can’t exactly just wipe it off with a sponge!”

“Dan, you’re gonna be fine,” Phil assured him as he led them down a less busy side street and finally relinquished his hold on Dan’s wrist, allowing him to catch up so they could walk side by side. “This shop is awesome, it’s where I got this guy done.”

Phil’s long fingers skimmed the dragon inked across the top of his collarbone and the bottom of his neck, startling the two-dimensional creature to life. 

Just as he had on that very first day in the robe shop—about five years earlier and three blocks up the main street—Dan couldn’t help but stare at the intricate design poking out of the collar of Phil’s t-shirt. He suddenly felt a little bubble of excitement swelling up inside of him at the idea of having such a beautifully-drawn design inked on his own skin.

Dan sighed, glancing down at the cobblestones before meeting the brilliant blue of his best friend’s eyes. “You promise they’re good?”

A smile spread across Phil’s face as he nodded so vigorously that Dan was worried he might throw his neck out. 

“Alright, fine,” Dan relented, smirking slightly. “I’ll do it.”

Phil somehow managed to beam even brighter, his fingers once again latching onto Dan’s wrist and dragging him down the street.

“You won’t regret this, Dan!” Phil exclaimed, quickening his pace. “This is the best tattoo shop in Knockturn Alley!”

“If you say so.” Dan chuckled for a moment at Phil’s enthusiasm, but quickly came to his senses. “Wait a minute, did you just say _Knockturn Alley?_ ”

“Hurry up, Dan,” Phil continued, ignoring Dan’s sputtering over where they were headed and pulling him down another side street, “we’re gonna miss our appointment!”

\- - -

“Alright, lads, who’s up first?”

Dan glanced back and forth between the intimidating chair and the even _more_ intimidating tattoo artist, a rather muscled wizard with ink up and down both arms who was currently setting up a selection of colors at his station and looking at Dan and Phil expectantly.

Feeling his nerves bubbling up again, Dan chewed harshly on his bottom lip. He had been much more confident when they had first walked into the shop (“‘Dark “Arts” Tattoo?' Phil, you _would_ find a shop with a punny name, oh my God.”), but now that he was staring down the barrell, he wasn’t so sure.

With one glance at Dan’s face and an impressive use of their often joked about best friend mind meld, Phil was quick to speak up. “I’ll go first!” he said cheerfully, striding over and plopping down in the chair.

The artist nodded, grabbing his rough drawing of the tattoo from the table next to him and getting ready to transfer it onto Phil’s right bicep. He frowned in concentration, trying to figure out how to apply the image when Phil was bouncing his leg up and down, practically vibrating with excitement and shaking his entire body along with the chair.

“Mate,” he finally sighed, “you’ve _really_ got to stay still.”

Phil snickered. “You mean _stencil?_ ” he joked, tongue poking out.

Dan snorted from where he stood watching a few feet away, but the other wizard simply raised an eyebrow pointedly at Phil.

“Yeah, okay, sorry,” Phil mumbled, sitting up straight in the chair and stopping all of his fidgeting so the artist could get to work.

Both Dan and Phil’s eyes stayed glued to his arm as skilled fingers pulled the stencil paper away from Phil’s skin, revealing a group of incredibly detailed flowers, so realistic that Dan could practically smell the dirt of the greenhouses he and Phil had spent so much time in while at Hogwarts.

“Now, I know we discussed doing the whole piece in shades of blue,” the artist said, pulling out his wand to get started, “but I actually have another suggestion if you’re open to it.”

Phil smiled and nodded, urging him to continue.

“I was thinking we could do a colour-changing spell,” the other wizard explained. “Maybe based on your mood?”

Phil’s eyes went impossibly wide, blue irises shining. “You can really do that?”

“Sure,” the artist shrugged, “it’s not all that much more complicated than the animation enchantments we usually do. You interested?”

“Absolutely!” Phil replied quickly, barely even letting the other man finish his sentence. Hearing the other two laugh at his enthusiasm, a light blush dusted Phil’s face. “I mean, yeah, I guess that would be alright,” he covered, relaxing back in his chair in an attempt to play it cool. 

Still laughing a bit, the tattoo artist used his wand to gently lift a thin line of swirling black ink from the tiny container on the table, trailing it through the air toward Phil. “You ready?”

Phil glanced up at Dan, who had crossed his arms over his chest, drumming his fingers on his arms and staring intently at the scene in front of him, quite obviously worried about his own approaching time in the chair.

Dan saw something briefly flash in Phil’s eyes before the older man nodded, fingers tightly gripping the chair’s armrests in anticipation. “Do your worst,” he said through almost-gritted teeth.

Dan could feel himself sweating on his friend’s behalf as he watched the artist slowly guide the colour through the air and begin the process of outlining the detailed flowers. 

Phil winced as soon as the ink made contact with his skin. “Ow, ow, _ow_ ,” he said slightly under his breath, making direct eye contact with Dan, who was watching in horror at seeing how much pain he was in.

The artist raised an eyebrow at Phil’s apparent discomfort, but continued working. As he laid down a particularly dark line, Phil sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth, and Dan seemed to have finally had enough.

“No, absolutely not,” Dan exclaimed, voice high from nerves. “Nope, no way, dot biz dot UK. I am _not_ doing that.” He spun on his heel, making his way toward the exit. 

“Dan, wait!” Phil shouted from his seat across the shop to where Dan was practically halfway out the door. “Where are you going?”

The younger boy reluctantly turned back to look at Phil and the tattoo artist, who had paused his work with a stream of ink still floating in front of him.

“Phil, there is no way in _hell_ I’m going to put myself through that much pain for a damn _forfeit_ ,” Dan huffed out.

A smirk crept across Phil’s face, and he bit his lip to stifle an obvious giggle.

“I don’t know what could _possibly_ be funny about this situation,” Dan grumbled. 

At Dan’s words, Phil broke out into full blown laughter. “Dan, I was totally faking! It doesn’t hurt at all, I honestly can’t feel a thing!”

Dan’s mouth dropped open in disbelief, not quite able to comprehend what Phil was saying. “You’re joking, right? I mean, you _have_ to be. You were in so much pain!”

“Nah, mate,” the artist interjected, “magic tattoos are nothing like Muggle ones. No needle, no pain.”

Dan glanced back and forth between the other two wizards, searching for signs that they were lying to him, but finding none.

“Phil, you arse!” Dan glared at his so-called friend. “Why would you do that to me?”

Phil at least had the decency to look guilty at being called out. “I was just trying to psych you out a little,” he shrugged. “If the thing you were worrying about most was the pain, and then you found out that it wasn’t even _real_ , then what’s really left to be nervous about?”

Dan stared back at the older man, trying to wrap his head around Phil’s thought process. Ultimately, he realized that Phil was absolutely right: with the element of discomfort out of the equation, he really _wasn’t_ nervous about getting his own tattoo done. 

A smirk broke across Dan’s face as he made his way back across the shop. “You know, that was a risky little game you just played.” 

“But it worked, didn’t it?” Phil replied with a knowing smile as the artist got back to work on his arm. 

Dan gave an exaggerated eye roll as he grabbed a stool, considerably more relaxed as he settled in to watch the artist finish Phil’s tattoo, excitement building over getting his own piece started.

\- - -

“Hey, Phil?” Dan called down the stairs from the office later that night. “You ready to finish editing?”

“Umm, yeah, just a sec!” Phil replied from the kitchen, voice slightly muffled. 

Dan shrugged, relaxing back in his desk chair to wait: editing PINOF together was tradition, so he wasn’t going to get started until Phil came upstairs. 

He hummed to himself softly as he trailed a finger across the brand new ink colouring the inside of his left forearm. The vibrant hues of the galaxy swirled before his eyes, and the stars seemed to twinkle even brighter at his touch. His breath caught in his chest at the movement, and he knew he would probably never completely get used to the sight.

“It really is a cool tattoo,” Phil said suddenly from the open doorway, making Dan jump in his chair, clutching his chest. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to surprise you,” Phil laughed as he maneuvered around Dan to get to his own seat. 

“No, it’s fine,” Dan said, recovering from his shock. “What was taking so long in the kitchen?”

“Oh, nothing important,” Phil replied casually as he got started on editing, already adding in a somewhat unnecessary firework effect that he would later justify with the excuse that they needed to get their money’s worth for it. 

Dan’s attention, however, was focused on the flowers now covering Phil’s right bicep, which were slowly changing from a royal blue to a dark orange shade. 

“Phil?” Dan asked, cocking his head to one side. “Do you have that list the guy gave you of the different mood colours that would show through in your tattoo?”

“Oh! Did it change?” Phil asked, glancing down at his arm as he pulled up the list on his SmartMirror and passed it over to Dan. “What does it mean?”

Dan looked back and forth between the small screen and the tattoo, trying to decipher the meaning. When he finally had it figured out, he put Phil’s SmartMirror down on the desk and crossed his arms. 

“Phil, is there any _particular_ reason for you to be feeling nervous or guilty right now?”

Phil froze in the middle of editing, slowly turning in his office chair to face his flatmate. 

“What _exactly_ were you doing in the kitchen, Phil?” Dan asked again. 

Phil sighed, closing his eyes and scrunching up his face. “Okay, okay! I was eating your cereal!”

“PHIL!” Dan whined, voice reaching a decibel that even _he_ didn’t know he could hit. 

“I’m sorry!” Phil replied through a giggle. “I just saw the box sitting there, and I couldn’t help it!”

Dan shook his head at Phil’s ridiculousness, smirking at the colour-changing tattoo. “You know, I think that thing’s gonna come in handy...”


End file.
